To Forbid a Flame To Burn
by ShamelessLiar
Summary: The Water Empire formed 100 years ago to stop the madness of Sozin. Now, firebending is outlawed and Prince Zuko must struggle to protect his people from the Imperial power that lingers on. Meanwhile Katara, the governor's daughter, must see past her personal injustices and come to terms with a world that is darker and crueler than she ever knew.
1. Chapter 1

AN: Happy 2015 Zutara Week! I'm way behind on this (still. always.) but here's Day 1! Happenstance. Hope you like it. :)

Note on the universe: This story is about colonialism, and colonialism is largely about racism. The colonizer believes they are civilized, modern, moral, and basically naturally justified in exploiting and oppressing the people they colonize. I may not have portrayed a 100-year-colonized Fire Nation as well as I could have, so if you're a pro on colonization, let me know if you spot things I could have done better!

* * *

"Katara, are you sure you don't want to marry Nopak? I've heard his dad owns, like, four ash banana plantations."

"Four?" Katara covered her mouth with her fingertips, loading her voice with all the false enthusiasm she could muster. "Why, Sokka, that's more square acreage than anyone else in the colonies! How can I say no to _all_ of _that_?"

Sokka shrugged, his wry smile just barely showing. "I don't know, little sister. Either you're crazy or you just don't love ash bananas enough to live here."

Katara huffed and swallowed another sip of spice wine. She had to ration it out carefully if she wanted the one glass allowed her to last through this torturous event. It wasn't fair. Old enough to be haggled over like a plot of land, but not to drink enough wine to distract her from the excruciating social trap that had snapped shut around her.

It was a Maidens' Ball, during which eligible young ladies of marrying age were allowed to socialize with young men who might wish to make offers to their fathers. Katara had successfully - and with her father's blessing - avoided these gatherings for three years, but now, at eighteen, she was in danger of becoming an old maid.

Which was ridiculous. The very notion made Katara grit her teeth. But even though Imperial Governor Hakoda was the most powerful man in the colonies, he couldn't fight the tide of custom forever. "Just go and socialize," he'd said with his tender sadness. "Who knows? Maybe you'll be surprised." Then the humor came back into his eyes. "And take Sokka with you. He's mooned over Princess Yue long enough."

Presently, Katara stood with her brother beside the fountain that decorated the center of the ballroom, avoiding eye contact with several well-dressed young men and trying to look as unapproachable as possible. She had been slouching and frowning and making sarcastic, pithy remarks for the past hour. It didn't come easily for her, but it was better than listening to a dozen puffed-up dignitaries' sons like Nopak talk about the importance of their fathers.

Sokka nudged her with his elbow, peering off across the dance floor. "Hey, who are they?"

"How am I supposed to-" Katara followed his gaze and immediately spotted the teenagers he was talking about. They were hard to miss, being the only natives present.

At the lead was a young woman about Katara's age, and though she walked arm-in-arm with another girl, she was obviously in charge. It was in her bearing, like if a moose-lion strode into the room, it would just as obviously be in command of the situation by virtue of being huge and dangerous. This young woman was average in stature, yet she strode with the same confidence and a strange anticipation. As if she was just daring someone to challenge her.

The girl by her side was smiling and pleasant natured, bowing in the appropriate way to her many male acquaintances. Behind her walked a third young woman, taller and more reserved than the others. Her eyes flashed at the young man beside her, and there were leagues of shadows beneath their calm surface.

And the young man… He walked through the ball as if toward his own unjust execution, ramrod straight and staring unrelentingly ahead. He wore part of his long hair in a topknot - a political statement, Katara recalled from lessons, something to do with the fallen nation and its traditions - but the most distinctive thing about him was the scar. Katara had never seen it before, but she'd heard rumors. And the sight of it… Suddenly the smell of her wine made her stomach turn a little.

"They look really familiar," Sokka was saying, scratching his chin.

Katara shot him a disbelieving look. "Maybe that's because we saw them coming in to petition with their father a thousand times when we were kids, Sokka. La, do you pay attention to anything?"

Sokka squinted, then his mouth popped open. "Oh! The prince and princess! Right!" He shrugged, at once shameless and self-deprecating. "I forgot they were our age."

"I guess it's not totally your fault," Katara said, rubbing the back of her arm and watching the way the other guests parted and tried not to engage the native royalty. "It's been almost ten years since the last time they came to the upper city. Why are they back now?"

"Good question." Sokka's expression was sober for a long moment, then he smirked. "Maybe the prince has come to woo you."

Katara shot him a dirty look but couldn't help laughing just a little. "You're ridiculous."

"What's ridiculous is the sheer acreage that guy's dad owns. Or, you know, would own if they weren't part of a long line of warmongering savages."

"Sokka!"

.

* * *

.

"If I'd known how boring these parties were," Mai said with a sideways glance at all the colonists' sons and daughters, "I never would have complained about not being allowed to attend them."

"Azula, I think that boy was looking at you!" Ty Lee curled up her fingers under her chin. "Oh, you'd be so cute together."

Azula spared a glance for the boy in question. "He looks common. They all do."

"But Azula, not everyone can be a princess like you."

"True," she sighed. "But the royal family mustn't sully itself by dating beneath it. Bad enough…" Her eyes slid to Zuko and she trailed off, smirking faintly.

Still walking behind her, Zuko seethed. "Shut up," he said through his teeth. "You know I'm only doing this for our people."

"You're doing it because Father told you to," Azula said simply.

It was the truth. Ozai's command had come as a shock to everyone, especially Zuko. After so many years exiled to Iroh's household, tolerating the old man's poverty and crazy talk of peaceful protest over tea with his crazy friends, Zuko's heart had soared when he received the invitation from Ozai to come home. He'd overlooked the formal wording and the reference to his duty as a prince, and he'd outright ignored Iroh's cautions that all might not be as it seemed. When Ozai outlined his plan for Zuko in his formal receiving room, the cut had gone deep - but so had the fierce hope that this was the time, this was Zuko's shot at redeeming himself in his father's eyes.

But that didn't make Azula's dig any less irritating. "We need position if we're going to press for native representation on the board of governors, Azula. I'm not afraid to do what it takes to save our culture."

Azula fixed her stare on him. "Neither am I." Her pause was loaded. For an instant, all three of the other teens watched her carefully. Then the princess shrugged. "But, since the happy task of diluting the royal bloodline falls to you, I'll just have to find some other way to fill my time. She's with her brother by the fountain." Azula's smirk returned. "Don't screw up."

Zuko turned at once to look and spotted them immediately. He remembered seeing them play with their mother in the gardens as he passed through to the imperial governor's petition hall with his own family. At the time, he'd wished he could stay outside just to avoid the tense stillness of kneeling before Governor Hakoda while his father pled their case. Twice a year, every year. Always the same. The Fire Nation had remained in balance with the other nations of the world for thousands of years. Sozin's attack on the Air Nomads was a fluke, a tragic mistake, not a symptom of some animal brutality in the hearts of their people. Why continue to punish them and treat them as children for the mistakes of their forebears? Why not allow governance of the Fire Colonies to return to the hands of the old royal line?

And always Governor Hakoda's response was the same. He sat perfectly still on the throne crafted from great arcing whale bone and white and blue silk, and he listened with a patient, thoughtful look on his face. For years, he answered with the same consideration, rewarding each successful petition with a new inch of power for the office of the Fire Lord. Every year it was the same - until the year Zuko turned ten. The year everything went wrong. There were no more petitions after that. The upper city was closed to the old royal family, and to all of the Fire People.

Seeing it again now was like seeing it for the first time. Now, Zuko knew that those gardens - and this ballroom, the entire palace, the city - had once belonged to the Fire Lord. He knew his people had been robbed. He knew that Governor Hakoda's grants of power were nothing but a mockery, placations to keep the peace.

And he knew, when he saw the governor's son and daughter laughing and glancing at him, that he and his people were the butt of their joke.

The humor drained from their faces at once when Zuko scowled and strode toward them. Behind him, already forgotten, his sister and her friends looked on with quiet amusement - except for Ty Lee. "Oh," she said, bright-eyed, "they'll be cute together, too!"

"It is promising," Mai agreed, drawing the confused stares of the other two girls. She only sighed. "If he gets in a fight with her, maybe we'll be asked to leave."

Zuko didn't hear any of this, though. He was entirely focused on the two teens before him. He didn't even really notice the partygoers scrambling to get out of his way, to keep their clothes from brushing his. It registered on a lower level, and resentment simmered deep in Zuko's chest, but it was nothing beside what he felt for the two before him, Governor Hakoda's children.

"Good evening," he said as he stopped in front of them. He tried to keep his voice neutral, but there was a definite edge to it.

Katara and her brother - whose name Zuko hadn't bothered to learn - gave the slight nods of recognition that were appropriate to their rank. Zuko gritted his teeth and ducked his chin.

"Good evening, Prince Zuka," Katara said with a nervous smile. "How are you enjoying the party?"

"I'm not. And it's Prince Zuko."

Katara had the decency to blush but her brother just grinned like an idiot. "See, Katara? You and Prince Zuko are both having a terrible time. The two of you have more in common than you and Nopak already!"

"Sokka!" She spoke through her teeth at him, her polite expression straining. "Not funny."

Sokka elbowed her lightly, chuckling, but Katara only blushed harder. Zuko watched them, his suspicions mounting. He didn't know anyone by the name of Nopak and he didn't want to, but he could sense that being compared to him was not flattering.

But to call these two on their disrespect would only make his mission harder. Zuko clenched his jaw and drew a deep breath, then pressed on. "It's a shame you aren't enjoying your party, Miss Katara."

"Oh! It's not _my_ party. It's a Maidens' Ball. For all the maidens to meet young suitors." She squinted at him and the question was there in her eyes, though she refused to ask it. _Why are_ you _here?_

Zuko held his head a measure higher and refused to give the answer, which should have been obvious. "I'm familiar with the custom," he said instead. "Some merchant families have begun holding similar events."

"Oh! Well that's very…"

Zuko narrowed his eyes. _Civilized? Modern?_

The governor's daughter didn't finish. She smoothed the furrow from her brow and quite obviously made herself smile. "They're saying your uncle is trying to convince the guilds to boycott trade with the Empire. Is that true?"

"Er…" Zuko thought back to all those teas and games of Pai Sho with other old men. Usually, he'd found some excuse to leave the house for the afternoon, but sometimes he heard bits of what was said. "I don't follow my uncle's campaigns. But I wouldn't be surprised. The taxes make it hard for merchants to gain a profit."

"How is that possible?" her brother put in, face scrunched up in skepticism. "It's a low base tax, and it hasn't changed in decades."

"The official tax, yeah, but you aren't accounting for unofficial taxes."

Both of them were looking at him like he was talking nonsense. Zuko huffed. "If a merchant imports goods into this city, he has to pay the official tax to get through the gate. But there are other taxes - a tax for the notary counting their goods, a tax for the guards in the market, a-"

"That's bribery!" Katara crossed her arms over her chest, looking personally offended. "If the merchants would report the officials responsible, they could be dealt with."

"You think they haven't?" Zuko moderated his tone and straightened his posture. "There's also a tax for filing a complaint, and several other taxes to ensure that complaint reaches investigation. But imperial judges never rule in favor of natives against imperial citizens anyway, so it's all a waste."

The governor's children shared a doubtful look. It set the fire in Zuko's gut blazing.

"How do you think I got in here, tonight?" he demanded. "Because I certainly wasn't invited."

They just stared at him for a beat. Then, Sokka smiled an enormous, false smile. "Well! I think this calls for more wine!" He whispered two words in Katara's ear and hurried off. She glanced after him, wild-eyed, then looked back at Zuko.

"You… You bribed the guards to get in?"

"And the attendants, and the herald." Zuko tracked Sokka's movements until he disappeared in the crowd, then watched Katara. There wasn't much time.

"Why go to so much trouble?" She had tucked her chin down and was watching him with her large blue eyes. He hadn't realized how pretty she was, but he noticed it now, and it made him choke on his words.

"I- I had to. Because I had to talk to you. To start courting you."

.

* * *

.

 _Stall him._

Katara stared up at the foreign prince and forgot all about what Sokka had told her to do. Heat flooded her face. Her heart galloped in her chest - and not just because this was exactly the unthinkable situation Sokka had joked about earlier.

Prince Zuko's right cheek was reddening as well, and his look was plaintive rather than the accusatory glare he'd had through their conversation. It made his scar somehow less noticeable. He cleared his throat and stood a little straighter.

"It would be a smart match for us both," he said rapidly. "Turmoil is building in the lower city and a union between the governor's household and the royal family would go a long way in keeping the peace. And I…" Prince Zuko's eyes flicked down to her lips for an instant, then back to her stare. They were sharp and yellow, those eyes, so different from those of her own people. "I would strive to honor you. As… your husband."

Katara finally broke the paralysis that had held her and shook her head, frowning. "Is this some sort of prank? Did Sokka put you up to this?"

The prince stiffened in offense. "I'm completely serious."

"Then you're out of your mind!" Katara met his fierce stare with one of her own but lowered her voice so she wouldn't be overheard. "You're crazy if you think I'd agree to marry a veritable stranger. Especially you! You've been nothing but an abrasive jerk for the ten minutes we've been talking, so I don't know what you think 'courting' is, but-"

"Why don't you just drop the excuses and say what you're really thinking," he snarled back. "Look me in the eye and admit you're rejecting me because you'd be ashamed to have a _native_ formally court you."

"That-! It isn't like that at all!"

"You think you're so superior and civilized, but you're just a commoner whose father climbed on the backs of my people to a position of power." He jabbed his own chest. "My _family's_ position. I'm a _prince_ , the heir to the Fire Throne, and you can't even be bothered to consider me!"

Katara glared at him, but she felt the blood pounding in her face. "I'm not considering you," she bit out, "because you're a rude, self-important brute. It's no wonder the native traders have started holding these stupid parties. If they're half as power-hungry as you, they probably all just drop everything and marry the biggest purse to walk by!"

"You don't know anything about my people or the things they have to do to survive Imperial oppression!"

"Oppression! The Fire Nation threatened to take over the world! You murdered the Air Nomads! If the Empire's presence here prevents the next atrocity, then it's worth the inconvenience to everyone involved."

Belatedly, Katara realized the partygoers had gone quiet and backed away to create an open space around them. Guards were hustling toward them from the entrance, Sokka leading the way. Zuko made no attempt to run. He only glared down at her.

"The Empire's continued presence here," he said with restrained fury, " _is_ the next atrocity."

The guards were very close. In just seconds, they would escort the prince out of the ballroom. The stuffy dignitaries' sons and daughters would crowd Katara, asking her what had happened, what had the prince wanted, had he really declared his intent to court her…

Because no doubt someone had heard. By this time tomorrow, it would be all anyone could talk about - the native prince pursuing the governor's daughter in a match that was completely unheard of.

Embarrassed and furious that he had put her in this position, Katara dropped her wine glass and threw up her arms. She didn't hear the glass shatter on the floor - no one did - because of the sudden crash of water soaring up from the fountain and arcing down on top of the prince's head. He went down in a heap on the floor and as the water settled, all noise in the ballroom stopped.

Katara held her chin high despite the disbelieving stares, despite the muffled gasps and whispers. She just glared down at the prince, unflinching. Prince Zuko braced himself on his elbows. For a second, his eyes flitted over the watching teenagers and an aching look crossed his face.

Then he looked at Katara and scowled so viciously, she almost took a step back. But she didn't.

A moment later, two hulking guards hauled the dripping prince up off the floor and began dragging him away. "I know the way out," he snarled, but they didn't let him go.

Katara watched him struggle to at least leave on his own feet, then startled when a hand came to rest on her shoulder. "You just had to make a scene," Sokka muttered near her ear. "Didn't you?"

Rather than rushing her and flooding her with questions, the other guests stood back at a safe distance. Katara caught a few disdainful looks fixed on her. Whispers zinged past from all directions.

"…so unladylike!"

"…never going to marry…"

"…no mother to guide her, but…"

"But bending? How crass can you get?"

Katara raised her chin again, snatched up Sokka's hand, and began leading him toward one of the side doors - the nearest exit. He hurried along with her, putting a hand on her back as if that would shelter her from the stares.

Once they had escaped to the dim hallway and the door had shut behind them, Sokka pulled her to a stop. "I hope you had a good reason for doing that. Dad's gonna be pretty mad when he finds out you revealed your bending in front of the chatty half of society."

Katara folded her arms over her chest and huffed. "I'd rather they gossip about me being a bender and a harridan than about the Fire Prince declaring his intent to court me."

"He did what?" The look on Sokka's face was a mix of elated mirth and horror. "It was a _joke_! Katara, you know he can't actually court you, right?"

"He didn't seem to know that."

"He can't. Legally. I'm pretty sure there's a law about it."

Katara cast her brother a skeptical glance, then took his arm and began pulling him. "Come on. Let's just go home."

They followed the hallway until it joined with the main corridor, then strolled past the guards, out of the public wing and into the governor's residential wing. Unlike many of their guests, the siblings did not marvel at the vastness of the palace around them - they had always lived there, and the marble and gilt and miles of blue paint were made invisible to them by their long familiarity.

"I'm serious, you know," Sokka said at length. "Dad's not going to be happy that you used your bending on a guest - even a native who snuck in specifically to harass you. He really stuck his neck out getting you a tutor."

Katara winced. "I know. And I know I shouldn't have done it. He just made me so mad."

"What? For making you come to the party? Don't you think that's kind of petty?"

"Not Dad! Zuko. He was saying a bunch of stuff about the Empire oppressing his people."

Sokka let out a derisive snort. "Yeah, and 'unofficial taxes' and probably cruelty to Komodo rhinos at the hands of Imperial soldiers, too. He's from a political family, Katara. Guys like that will say anything to make you agree with them."

"Yeah," Katara said quietly, then paused by a window. Sokka stopped with her and for a moment they peered out at the moonlit garden and beyond it, the palace wall. And beyond that, the jagged wall of the mountain.

"But… Sokka, how would we know if people _were_ being oppressed? We've never even been outside the upper city. Don't you ever wonder what it's like?"

Sokka shot her a look. "Don't even think about it."

"I'm not thinking about _doing_ anything! I'm just… curious."

"Well don't think about that, either! Katara, you know how dangerous it is in the lower city. Remember what happened to Mom."

Katara met her brother's anxious stare and squeezed his arm. "I never forget."

She watched the way he relaxed, then smiled before pulling her on down the corridor. Katara went along with him, but each window they passed afforded her another view of the beautiful world in which they lived and, pressed up against its edges, the jagged world without.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN:** Thank you so much to everyone who supported this project and kept me going with reviews and likes and gentle prodding on tumblr! I love this fandom... Anyway, enjoy!

* * *

 **Day 2 - Vigil**

 **.**

The Imperial guards did not release Zuko until they had marched him all the way through the gates of the upper city and shoved him out onto the rocky path that switchbacked down the mountain. He whirled around and glared back at them with more dignity than he felt in his sodden clothes. The guards sneered at him from under their helmets and said nothing. Their silence was a taunt in itself.

The fire in him strained his control now almost past bearing. Seething, Zuko crossed his arms and turned his back on the guards, sucking in one calming breath after another. It was only barely enough to keep him from steaming the water out of the silk clinging to his skin. But it was enough. It had to be.

Firebending, after all, was forbidden.

Azula and the others must have either followed closely or had armed escorts of their own because they soon joined him on the path. She hardly spared him a glance as she glided past and climbed into the waiting palanquin. Zuko uncrossed his arms sharply and followed, seating himself in the forward-facing spot beside her. Mai and Ty Lee sat opposite them, but Zuko did not look at them. He only glared out the side as the litter was lifted and began the descent from the main gates.

After a time, Azula broke the silence. "Spectacular work, as always, Zuzu."

"Don't feel bad, Zuko," Ty Lee put in gently. "You gave it your best."

"Yeah," Mai deadpanned. "Who could have guessed that the governor's daughter would find the advances of a lowly savage offensive?"

Zuko gritted his teeth against the flurry of their voices and fixed on the rightful target of his ire. "She's such a high and mighty pries. I went on and on trying to talk some sense into her and all she could do was wait for me to go away!"

"Sometimes girls just don't feel like chatting," Ty Lee said with a shrug. "It probably wasn't personal."

"So you think Zuko just needs to work on his timing?" Mai asked, bored and disbelieving. "Please. She used her bending on him. The Imperials don't let girls waterbend, so if she was upset enough to reveal a secret like that to a crowd that big, I doubt Zuko's ever going to catch her on her good side."

"Thanks," Zuko spat. "This is exactly the kind of encouraging stuff I need to hear right now."

"What? It wasn't ever going to happen. She's a separatist. It's not your fault she won't consider you."

Zuko scowled and said nothing, but turned his face so none of the others could catch sight of his blush in the gloom. It may have been an impossible task to start with, but he could have restrained himself and been less rude. It would have galled him, but if he had swallowed his pride and just done it, maybe things could have gone differently.

"Mai is right, of course," Azula said as if it was all obvious. "You were never going to convince the governor's daughter to accept your proposal tonight. What we accomplished was nothing more than a bold first step. The board of governors will be discussing it for days, which is all to our advantage. But the girl's bending is an unanticipated twist."

Ty Lee leaned closer. "What do you mean, Azula?"

"Only that the board's disapproval will not be falling solely on us." A cunning smile crept over Azula's face. "The governor will have a lot of questions to answer, if he allowed his daughter to break with tradition."

"So what?" Zuko huffed. "If Hakoda winds up being replaced, this will all have been a huge waste of time."

"Not necessarily," Mai said. She very nearly sounded interested. "If the governor steps down, he might be more amenable to a mutually beneficial union."

"That won't help anything if he doesn't have the power to grant our people any concessions."

"Losing his office isn't the same thing as losing his name. His family would still be respected, and that would be a big step up to the old Fire Royals. At least it's somewhere to start."

Zuko was not convinced, but he did not press the issue. Azula was being suspiciously quiet and, when he caught sight of the smile still lingering on her face, he became aware once more of all the secrets she kept from him.

"Yes," she said as if to herself. "It is."

Zuko sighed and peered out the curtain at the dizzying drop.

They made their way down the long mountain trail and finally passed through the gates into the lower city. Evening was deepening to night, but some vendors remained on the main streets, selling hot roasted meat on skewers or cups of chilled wine. Lights glowed yellow from tea and wine houses and music drifted through the air, a traditional Fire Nation ballad from one establishment clashing and competing with a lighter, flowing tune that originated from one of the poles. Imperial guards marched the streets in tight phalanxes, riot cudgels in hand.

The palanquin bore them past the wealthier district where many Imperial lords and ladies made their homes, and down to the modestly wealthy homes of high-ranking merchants where the surviving Fire Nation nobility held its seat, as it were.

Finally, they came within sight of the fine house where Ozai made his residence. Just the sight of it, the proud red lacquer and the fire lilies blooming along the stately walk, made Zuko quake internally. If he could not live up to Ozai's expectations, what good was he to his nation? What good was he at all?

The butler ushered them from the palanquin through the broad front door and Zuko followed Azula toward the formal wing of the house, only to pull up short when she looked back at him over her shoulder.

"I would sit this one out if I were you, Zuko. You got lucky with that bending spectacle, but Father is still unlikely to be pleased." It was not certain whether she meant this genuinely or was only being cruel.

Zuko bared his teeth and almost challenged her, but could not find words to defend himself. He settled instead for a surly look that he fixed on her back all the way up the stairs to the upper level. Behind him, Ty Lee chattered something about getting back to her parents' home, and Mai sighed something about doing the same. Zuko did not watch them go, too absorbed in the well of his fears.

He made his way to the room that had been given him and allowed his footman to help him off with his still-damp clothes. It was still strange to have a man help him with tasks he had done alone for all his years living with Iroh, but the usual awkwardness was far from his mind. Dressed in a dry casual tunic and loose pants, he settled before his altar and, with a tight flick of one hand, lit the single candle.

Only here in the privacy of his own home was it safe to bend, and even here, Zuko hesitated to do so. Iroh had been reckless, using bending often to heat his tea or warm cold hands, even going so far as to do it in front of customers. Ozai had never approved of that sort of laziness. Ozai was cautious and kept his secrets dear. Zuko could only hope to be as prudent as his father.

Perhaps then, Ozai would count him as close an advisor as he counted Azula.

But that day would never come so long as Zuko was botching his opportunities to advance their people. He pinched his eyes shut and let out a slow breath between his teeth. So stupid to let that ignorant spoiled girl distract him from his cause. He couldn't allow himself another slip like that, assuming Ozai even offered him a second chance.

Now, though, there was nothing to do but wait for his father's summons. Zuko gazed at the flame and slowed his breathing. He focused and waited and listened to the muffled sounds of the household, all the while stifling the inferno that raged inside him.

.

* * *

.

Katara was awakened early the next morning to a summons from her father. That all on its own unnerved her, as Hakoda was never so formal within the family. When she woke up fully and remembered the events of the previous night, though, Katara fumbled as her maids helped her into her clothing and fidgeted as they fixed her hair, trying unsuccessfully to delay the confrontation she knew she was in for.

She wasn't disappointed.

Her maid led her to the formal receiving room rather than the family sitting room and, when the doors opened before her, Katara had to bite her lip to keep from squeaking in surprise. The room was set up with one long curving table facing the single chair and at that table sat the members of the city council. Hakoda sat in the center, a deep furrow in his brow but his eyes flicking to Katara and away. He looked like a man quietly caught in a trap, and that frightened Katara more than any of the rest.

"Please be seated, Miss Katara," said Nijak, the eldest of the council. His face was stern, the usual laugh lines around his mouth falling slack.

Katara sat in the audience chair and folded her hands carefully in her lap.

"Word has reached this council of some troubling matters," Nijak went on, peering over his wire glasses. "It is forbidden for women to learn waterbending. How long have you illegally practiced this art?"

"I- I've always been a waterbender."

"Yes, and you excelled as a healer, which was perfectly acceptable," said one of the other councilors, his tone rising as he went on, "but to shun the traditions of the Empire and make a joke of the culture of our people? Most disturbing."

Suddenly aware of the danger this put Hakoda in, Katara rushed onward. "I learned in secret, on my own. No one knew."

"It is my responsibility," Hakoda said abruptly. "I arranged for her tutor."

Councilors sat away from him as if good sense was catching. Nijak broke the silence. "Governor, how can this be?"

"Katara is my daughter," Hakoda went on, steel ringing in his voice, "and our world is not a safe place. With tensions building among rebels and the growing number of allegedly peaceful protestors, it is only a matter of time before violence breaks out again. Perhaps," he said, working his jaw to one side, "if my wife had been able to defend herself, I would not have had to make this decision alone."

The other men murmured amongst themselves, but Katara only had eyes for her father. Hakoda sat up straight and waited for the council to come to some consensus, but his eyes when he looked at Katara were sad. She felt terrible. He had trusted in her, giving her this chance, and she had exposed them both to avoid some petty embarrassment.

At length, Nijak cleared his throat. "This is most irregular, Governor Hakoda, and normally your actions would call for your immediate dismissal from your seat." Others at the table nodded, some with spite in their eyes. "None the less, your circumstances are complicated, and it is clear that you were only doing as a father must. Yet such flagrant disregard for our customs cannot be allowed to stand, and if you ever evince such disrespect again, we will be forced to demand your resignation."

"I don't expect that to be a problem." Hakoda fixed his stare on Katara, and for a moment she was confused by the worry still lining his face.

"I for one would have more than contrition to answer for this… this aberration," said one of the younger councilors, Deknuk. Katara felt all the blood drain from her face as he shot her a frown, shaking his head. "Perhaps Miss Katara's interest in subjects inappropriate for young ladies stems from her lack of other occupation. Should it not have concerned the board before now that a pretty, well-bred young woman remains unmarried at such an age? Surely, Governor, she cannot have suffered a lack of offers."

"Offers that bore consideration," Hakoda said firmly. "Yes."

"Then perhaps the problem is in your overly strict criteria of selection."

Abruptly, belatedly, Katara remembered that Deknuk was Nopak's uncle. His eyes locked on Hakoda like a bear-dog's jaws around a hunk of meat.

"I posit that further unpleasantness could be avoided if Governor Hakoda would simply accept one of the many offers he has already received."

All around the table, heads began nodding. Katara felt the floor drop out from beneath her.

"…marriage would settle the girl…"

"…energy diverted into the running of a household…"

"…children, of course…"

Hakoda sat unmoving through the wash of conversation, never looking away from Katara. He did not look surprised or angry - just sad. And Katara realized that he had known this was coming. He had known, and he was helpless to save her from it.

At length, Nijak quieted the discussion.

"Well, Governor Hakoda?" he asked with a polite crinkle in his brow. "Which suitor would you have?"

The furrow in Hakoda's brow deepened as he cast a stony look over the council. "As an official of the Empire, I understand my duty - but as a father, I want only to see my daughter happy. I confess to having sought out her opinions of her suitors in recent years, because she is an intelligent girl and I cannot justify marrying her off to a man she could never respect. No offer has satisfied me as of yet, because none have appealed to her."

"That is admirable, Governor," Nijak put in kindly, "but I hope you will not forget that a father must also see to his daughter's welfare. Miss Katara will not be well served if you allow her to neglect her own duty. You alone must choose."

"Duty." A muscle in Hakoda's jaw flexed, then released. Katara looked on, her heart in her throat. "Coincidentally, I received an offer late last night that piques my interest. While unconventional, I've found nothing in my review of Imperial law that would prohibit me from choosing this union." His sharp eyes slid to Katara and she went rigid under their chastening weight. "And, in light of the events of the Maiden's Ball, I think it best that my headstrong daughter deals personally with the repercussions of her actions."

"Dad-" Katara faltered. Dreadful certainty welled up in her chest, but she shook her head, disbelieving. He wouldn't do this to her.

"Katara, you publicly humiliated the Fire Prince in a time of growing unrest. If you do not make amends to the native royalty, the outrage of the common people could spark another uprising." Hakoda straightened, and now the entire force of his stern focus was upon her. "So you will do your duty and allow Prince Zuko to formally court you for no less than three months."

Katara sat in stunned silence, but the board burst into an uproar.

"-cannot possibly consider such an unnatural union-"

"-knows that their kind don't respect compromise - only ruthless domination can keep them under control-"

"-throwing your daughter to the flames!"

"Gentlemen!" Deknuk drown out the rest, his fist hammering on the table. "Governor Hakoda is clearly avoiding the issue by making this outlandish claim. The Fire royals have nothing to do with his daughter's wild behavior, and the notion that a well-bred girl of the Empire should be married off to a savage to promote peace is frankly laughable. Hakoda is only suggesting it to keep from having to choose a legitimate suitor."

Some of the councilors nodded, but others peered at Katara thoughtfully. A bead of sweat darted down her spine and soaked into the damp small of her back. All she could see was Hakoda, the sternness and sorrow warring on his face.

"I do not pretend to believe that such a courtship would ultimately lead to a marriage," he said carefully. "And every man here knows that I certainly do not wish for such a thing. But the insult to the Fire Princes must be soothed away before this incident becomes blown out of proportion."

Katara stared at her father, finally understanding. His punishment was not her doom - it was an effort to buy her time. The price, of course, was shameful, but perhaps a few months really would help the scandal of her waterbending to blow over. It should have been reassuring, comforting that this courtship was nothing but a formality, but Katara bridled against a hot surge of pride.

"You are the one blowing it out of proportion," Deknuk barked. "The Fire Princes may be a scheming pit of rat-vipers, but they have no real power. Even amongst their own people, they fell from grace long ago. Prince Iroh is the proprietor of a _tea shop_. The boy you'd have your daughter demean herself with is little more than a glorified servant. Prince Ozai may still be trying to slither his way out of the slums, but the only way he will manage it is if you _grant_ him exactly what he asks for!"

"Let us not be hasty," Nijak said with a raised hand. "The issue, after all, was providing Miss Katara with some more appropriate occupation, was it not? What is more appropriate for a young noble than to practice diplomacy? And all the better if her efforts might improve relations with the natives. If the experience is chastening to her, then it shall only help the lesson to sink in."

"You cannot be serious," another councilor choked out. "The Fire People are known to be ruled by their passions. This farce could put the girl in the way of harm."

"Don't be absurd! There will of course be chaperones."

"Katara is a skilled waterbender," Hakoda put in quietly. His eyes shone. "I doubt the Prince will forget it."

Katara watched the council go on, discussing her future as if she was not there, as if her thoughts on the matter had no value. Because, in the eyes of the Empire, they did not. Her worth was in her status, her father's position, and her ability to give birth to sons. What were the dreams and desires of one girl next to smoothing ruffled scales on the chained dragon?

It was the philosophy that Katara had been fed from the time she was a child, and the more years she had to swallow it down, the sicker she became. An ember of rebellion had been seething in her, hotter and hotter of late. Now, it threatened to burst into flame.

But she couldn't just openly defy her father and the board of governors. Katara had grown up holding her tongue and finding alternate ways to get what she wanted. She knew that speaking out now would only lead to more trouble. However, if she waited, she could surely find another way to avert this personal torment.

She held her hands folded carefully in her lap and watched the board come to its decision, all the while planning what she was going to do the next time she saw the Fire Prince.

.

* * *

.

Dawn came and went while Zuko knelt at his altar. He felt it like an oven opening behind him, heat licking up his neck, but he only remained still. With controlled breathing, he forced the candle's flame to burn slow and small, stretching out the life of the wax for hours more than it should have burned.

Only a nub remained when Ozai's summons finally arrived. Zuko unconsciously walked the glossy hallways lightly so that his heels did not strike at every step. He entered the office staring straight ahead, then turned into the receiving area and lowered himself into a full kowtow without meeting his father's eyes.

Ozai sat on the low platform before him, peering down on his son's bowed head with a look that might have been mistaken for impassivity if it weren't for the candles burning too brightly throughout the room.

"Zuko."

The sound of his name said by that voice made Zuko's stomach twist painfully, but he did not flinch. He remained where he knelt, staring hard at the floor.

"Azula tells me your performance at the ball left much to be desired."

Zuko bit his tongue. There were no excuses for his failure.

"A great deal of resources were allocated to afford you that opportunity, and yet you not only failed to make a respectable impression on the governor's daughter, you allowed her to shame you, and our people, in a public display of your weakness."

"I-" Zuko's brow crinkled at the floor. "I'm sorry, Father."

"Your pathetic apologies do nothing to lessen my disappointment in you." He said it lightly, as if brushing annoying dust off the edge of his sleeve.

Zuko felt like his stomach had turned to lead, as if the only escape he would ever have from this room would be if the floor opened up and swallowed him. He wouldn't even care if it did, just as long as he didn't have to go back to living with Iroh above the tea shop.

"However," Ozai went on, "our cause is not entirely lost. I have just received a note of acceptance from Governor Hakoda. Your courtship begins tomorrow afternoon."

"What?" Zuko startled, almost looking up from the floor. "But… how? Why?"

"Perhaps it would be easier for you if you don't allow your concerns to draw you into deep waters. Focus on the task before you, Zuko. Tea with your intended, if you wish."

Zuko did not move, did not so much as twitch one finger, but he could feel the rough skin where his hands touched. A tea server's hands, coarse from common labor. He could feel Ozai's stare on him, hotter than the sun.

"It doesn't matter what you do," his father said slowly, "just _try_ to behave like a prince and don't lower yourself to arguing with her. You are above differences in opinion. You are above _her_. Her beliefs are as meaningless as the arrangement of pebbles in the road you walk upon."

Zuko set his teeth and stiffened his shoulders, squashing his uncertainties. "Yes, Father."

"Good," Ozai said, a smile cutting its way across his face. "Now listen carefully, my son…"


End file.
